DRUID
by FireAngel312
Summary: For fifteen hundred years, Merlin had traveled the world to pass the time as he waited for Arthur's return. However, on his return from the States, something precious is taken from him. Hoping to regain what was taken, Merlin will turn to a few friends he has made throughout his long life. He will regain the item at all costs. Destiny be damned! (Modern AU, currently a one-shot)


**Author's Note: This is currently a one-shot that I came up with. It had come to mind well reading through a few other Modern Merlin fics that are out and about. The reason I say currently a one-shot is because I intend to make this a full story once I finish my other fic, ****_Historia Merlinus_****, which it will be tied into. What I have here though, is not set in stone and will likely change once I get around to the actual writing of it. This one-shot is just sort of a way for you to get on idea of the story that will evolve from this. I plan on breaking it down and putting in more to come up with four to five 5,000 words chapters. The, afterwards, I shall continue writing this story, which will hopefully become one of my better creations.**

A man, cloaked and hooded in a trench coat (to be more precise, a duster), stumbled into a back alley. Thankfully, the alleyway did not receive any lights from street lamps; a perfect place to hide for a bit. Not that they were following him; after all, he would be looking for them now that they had taken something precious from him.

Merlin allowed himself to slide to the paved ground beneath him. In the last fifteen hundred years he had never felt so tired. Of course, that could have been due to the fact that he never aged. Though, that hadn't stopped him from changing his appearance.

Instead of the twenty year old look he had sported for so long, he now looked closer to thirty than eighteen. Nothing much had changed; just a bit more muscles and hint of a beard now adorned his face. His blue eyes still had their unnatural glow to them and his hair still looked like it could do with a good cut. Of course, his clothes style had changed drastically since his time in Camelot. His trench coat showed obvious signs of use as well as his combat boots. Underneath, he wore a black, long-sleeve shirt and he wore cargo pants. All of which made his still rather small frame seem much larger than it was.

Merlin, having caught his breath, quickly jumped to his feet and slowly approached the alleyways entrance. Poking his head out, Merlin looked into a busy street located in Stratford. Cars sped by well other citizens walked the crowded sidewalks. Something that Merlin didn't like. He wouldn't know if his enemies were upon him until it was be too late.

To tell the truth Merlin wasn't surprised by the fact that he still had enemies. They called themselves the Fomorians, known to the world as a highly evasive terroristic group. They had caused several horrible events over several centuries because in truth, the Fomorians were not truly a terroristic group. Well, they were, but their targets were slightly different than other terrorists.

The Fomorians were actually ancient beings from Ireland. They had once being Irish druids; however, they had been corrupted and vied for power. In their quest for unimaginable power, they had changed in their increasing strength. Many gained powers that rivaled even the High Priestess and Priests of the Old Religion, but it came with a price. Some lost a limb or even an eye due to the indescribable mutilation the powers caused. Others changed in different ways. For example, one Fomorian Merlin had faced before had been gifted with so much power, he had became a flock of ravens in order to contain the magic.

Their targets were such people like Merlin, those who contained magic. After so many years, they still hungered for more power and they were ruthless when tracking down magic users. That was one reason Merlin kept moving around the world, he was located at the top of their list. However, now, the table was turned, they were his target. And in order to get back what they took, Merlin would have to resort to help.

Seeing no potential Fomorian, Merlin stepped out from his hiding place and hailed a taxi.

"Where to?" the cabby asked.

"London", Merlin said quickly. As the cabby set the car into motion, Merlin sank low in his seat. Merlin closed his eyes and sighed. He couldn't help but think of all that had happened in the last week. Yet, he didn't want to; he wanted to get help before he thought about it. Though, he couldn't help but think how he would take care of the Fomorians when he found them. First, he needed to get to the druids.

As the world changed, so had the druids. They had expanded their belief of protection through technology. Developmental Research of Universal and Independent Defense, or D.R.U.I.D, was the company run by a large group of druids. They specialized in creating items for personal defense. The company created the normal pepper spray and personalized stun guns, but they also created items that were made of technology that wouldn't be seen for two or three more years, created with the help of magic. Not very advanced, but they also were trying to stay inconspicuous to the outside world.

See magic had lost its hold on the world. It was still there of course, it was everywhere, but through the many years of persecution, those who had it went into hiding, thus allowing those who didn't have it to forget about it. Merlin had been saddened to see it happen, but for the time being, it was probably for the best.

Merlin had helped with D.R.U.I.D's creation; though, he had refused to be part of it. That was partly because he needed to stay under the radar of some other people who he didn't want visiting him. To name one, Nimueh; though, he bet she was able to locate him anyways. The second reason was because he traveled too much to be thinking about work. The world held so many marvelous things; it often distracted him more than he cared to admit.

However, they would help Merlin; after all, they all knew who he was. Plus, he was a close friend of the current president of the company, Alator Maddox. He had saved Alator after he had gotten into a particular bind with the Fomorians. Since then, Merlin sent monthly reports on his health, for Alator's, who worried about him constantly, sake. Though, it had been nearly a decade since he had last laid eyes on the druid.

As the taxi passed through the city, the light of buildings and street lamps lulled him into a light slumber, which was interrupted when the cabby stomped on the brakes, barely avoiding a crash. Nearly three-quarters of an hour since leaving the lonesome Stratford alleyway, Merlin stepped out of the taxi and shoved a wad of bills into the driver's hands before walking away, not caring to get his change. Merlin had more important things to worry about then money.

Now all he had to do was locate the D.R.U.I.D. main building, which had relocated several times during its decade existence. And since Merlin had only just recently moved back to Britain, he couldn't quite tell where his location was in London. Pulling out a cell phone, he rarely used it, but he had made a promise with someone to keep it on him at all times, he used the built in GPS to locate his destination. After the program took its time to locate the building, a small red blip appeared on the map. Looking closer, Merlin was surprised to find that the main building of the company was just down the street from him.

Looking up, Merlin spotted it. The building extended several stories into the sky and at the top, on the corner, sat the company's name and logo, which happened to be a Triskel. Merlin smirked. Putting his phone away, he made his way to it. After several minutes of ducking and dodging through a massive crowd and nearly being hit in the street, Merlin found himself standing before the gigantic building. He glanced at it for a moment before he reached for the door and entered.

Much like an office building, the floor was covered with carpet and the walls were whitewashed. There was even a front desk where a woman sat, oblivious to his presences. Merlin glanced around a moment, but then he spotted a security camera. Smiling, Merlin through off his coats hood and gave the camera a good look of his face. Then, he walked over to the front desk. After a moment of standing there, the woman sitting behind the desk noticed him and straightened the glasses sliding down her nose.

"May I help you? Are you here for an appointment?" she asked sounding a bit too professional.

"No, I'm just waiting for the welcoming committee," Merlin told her as he pointed at the security camera. She looked at him with confusion, but it changed to surprise after a moment. Just as Merlin hoped when he allowed the camera to catch his face, Alator had come to personally greet Merlin.

"Myrddin!" A rather short and bald man dressed in a fine, grey suit yelled cheerfully as he approached, followed closely by what looked like bodyguards. Merlin smiled, it had been awhile since someone used his name as it was in the Old Religion.

"Alator," Merlin responded back as the he hugged the man and then shook his hand.

"It's been far too long," Alator told the warlock.

"Yes, it has," Merlin answered back. _Nearly six years_, Merlin said within his mind. "Unfortunately, this visit is not to exchange pleasantries."

"Well, let's not just stand here. Come, we can talk about everything in my office," Alator said, his face changing at the sight of Merlin's solemn expression.

Leaving behind the completely baffled desk woman, Alator and his bodyguards showed Merlin through a series of hallways and flights of stairs. Eventually, they led him through a door that led onto a scaffold, which allowed a full layout of a busy lab. Merlin couldn't help but stop and stare in wonder at the work happening in it.

In one corner of the room he spotted a group of scientists, though, he bet they were druids as well, surrounding a tank full of nathairs. But it didn't hold his attention long as he spotted another druid/scientist testing out a baton. Upon hitting its target, it sparked and fizzled with electricity so blue, Merlin _knew_ it was powered by sidhe magic.

"How did you manage to get your hands on sidhe magic?" Merlin eyed Alator suspiciously from the corner of his eyes. Alator jumped to put out the accusation.

"Nothing like that, we wouldn't harm a being of the Old Religion. We got it through peaceful negotiations," Alator explained as he looked over the working druids. "Though, I daresay it took sometime to persuade them."

"With good reason," Merlin said, allowing a bit of contempt into his voice. "Magic in the wrongs hands can be dangerous. And humans having become ignorant too its existence, few would hesitate to use it for their own means if they knew it existed."

"Come now," Alator exclaimed. "It's not as if we advertise magic's existence. Besides, the magic in that is barely enough to cast a proper spell."

Merlin snapped slightly, "No, but enough to power that baton for several decades. And you're not exactly explicit on who can buy your products either. No doubt a rival company is pulling apart one of them in a lab somewhere, trying to replicate it. Magic won't stay invisible to the modern world forever. Sooner or later, someone will find it."

"And you'll be here to make sure it isn't used for the worst," Alator told him, sounding so sure. Merlin grimaced and shook his head.

"No one lives forever, Alator. Not even me."

"But look at how long you've lived so far. I doubt—"

"What? Doubt what?" Merlin asked looking down at the lab again. "That I'll die someday? Everything has its limits, Alator, even immortality."

Silence fell between them as they both looked at the druids working below. Merlin turned back with a small smile.

"But I'm being pessimistic." Alator grimaced at the comment. "Anyway, you were taking me to your office, weren't you? I hope it's got a good view."

Alator light up with a broad grin, "You won't be disappointed." Alator and his bodyguards moved on and Merlin followed, but not before looking at the lab once more. As they continued weaving through corridors, past doors that contained who knew what, Merlin let himself get lost in thought.

It wasn't as if he hadn't known that they had been using magic in their products, after all, it allowed them to stay ahead of the game. However, using magic such as that which belonged to the sidhe was dangerous, even the tiniest bit. Humans had proved that they could split an atom, much less, spot one. What was stopping them from learning of magic's existence?

Their movement was hindered for a moment as one of the bodyguards opened a door and the entered a room full of cubicles. Despite the lateness of the hour, there were many people sitting at their desks typing or in some other way occupied. As soon as Alator stepped through the doorway, several employees surrounded him.

"Sir, the Prime Minister called wanting to know when the ordered shipments would…"

"President, an envoy from Japan has arrived in London to make negotiation for…"

"Yo, Chief, some of the lab workers sent in a report for…"

Caught off guard, Merlin just stood and watched as several more employees came up holding slips of paper or had messages of some sort that needed to be handled by Alator.

Out of all the commotion that Merlin witnessed, he could only come up with one thought of it all: _Boy, I was smart to turn down the position. _He doubted he could have taken the stress of the job.

"Everyone, everyone, please calm down," Alator said loudly, his hands gesturing for people to be quiet. "I'll get to everything after I've taken care of an important meeting I'm about to have." Turning to Merlin, he said, "Come, Myrddin, my office is just across the room."

Gripping Merlin by the arm, the shorter man nearly dragged him through the cubicles full of staring faces. He thought he caught a few whispers of his name, which wouldn't be surprising as he was still a one of a kind among magic users.

"So, I see my name still means something around here," Merlin said after Alator shut the door, his bodyguards stationed themselves on the outside of door, and moved across the room to a small refrigerator in the corner.

"Of course! Myrddin Emrys, the Greatest Warlock to Ever Live," Alator said loudly as he crouched down to retrieve something from within the refrigerator. Merlin grimaced, the familiar phrase had brought up old memories; memories of a man who had been his first friend.

"Most only remember me by my other name, Merlinus Ambrosius," the warlock said, looking out the window of the president's office. In all honesty, it was a pretty good view of London. "Well, rather Merlin, but it's pretty much the same."

"Here," Alator offered him a glass, which Merlin found to be filled with wine.

"Thanks," Merlin said after taking a sip. He wasn't much for wine, not even back in the old days, but he drank it all the same.

"Sit," Alator gestured to a chair in front of a large and oriented desk. Merlin took a seat and Alator took the seat next to him rather than sit in the one behind the desk. "You look a lot different than from the last time I saw you."

Merlin smirked, remembering the flannel coat and flat cap he had worn back then. "State side was a lot different than it is here." Merlin plucked at his coat.

"I thought it looked nice, sort of like modern day wizard-like robes."

"And what did Morgana have to say about that?"

Merlin's mind froze at the mention of her name, the grin fell from his face.

"In fact, where is Morgana? I thought she'd be with you?"

"That's actually why I'm here," Merlin said quietly as he left his chair, turning his back away from the druid as he fiddled with the glass of wine in his hand.

"What is it?" Alator asked, sounding confused.

"Morgana and I got ourselves in a bind a few days ago and she was…," Merlin struggled to say the word, "…taken."

"What?!' Alator exclaimed. Merlin heard him get up from his seat. "By who?"

"The Fomorians," Merlin told him solemnly.

"Why?!"

"You know why!" Merlin spoke angrily. "The same reason they want you and me. However, I'm not giving up on her." Merlin turned to look at the druid.

"Merlin," the warlock noted the use of his more common name, "if she was taken by the Fomorians than the likeliness that she's still alive is slim."

"But that's just it," Merlin said. "They won't have killed her yet."

"What do you mean?" Alator asked; he eyed Merlin suspiciously.

"They took her because they know how much I care about her," Merlin said quietly, his eyes turning to look out the window. "She's bait."

"They're waiting for you," Alator said as he realized what Merlin had said. "And you plan to go after them."

"Of course I plan to go after them," Merlin spoke harshly as he began to pace. Alator grabbed his arm.

"Merlin," Alator's own voice had become harsh," Myrddin! You're going to walk right into their trap and you won't be able to save yourself. They'll be ready in numbers and you even said it yourself, everything has its limits. You're too important to go walking into something like this! Morgana would tell you to forget about her and continue waiting for—"

"But that's just it, Alator," Merlin yanked his arm away violently, "I can't just forget about her! We've seen so much together, done so much together. I …" – Merlin's voice cracked and a tear escaped the corner of his eye – "...love her too much to forget."

Yet again, silence fell between the two gentlemen. Merlin was too caught up with memories of Morgana and Alator was too unsure what to say. To conclude, the silence lasted longer than the one on the scaffolding. Finally, Alator patted Merlin on the shoulder.

"Then why come to me?"

"I need your help to track them down… and possible acquire a few items from you."

"What sort of items?"

"What else? Weapons," Merlin said dryly.

"We don't exactly make weapons here, Merlin, at least, not the ones you want," Alator said as he strode over to the window to have a moment to ponder. The moment lasted a long while and Merlin could understand why. Alator could put himself at risk if he helped. "I'll see what we can do. I'll have a team track down the Fomorians, but that's all the help I can give you. We need, as the druids have always done, to remain secretive."

"Of course," Merlin responded. "I understand completely."

Alator sighed deeply, than he looked at merlin with a smile, "How long has been since you've had food and rest?"

Merlin returned the smile, "Not since the incident two days ago. "

"Then as host, I suppose I should provide you with both," Alator gestured for Merlin to followed as he moved to the door. As the exited the room, Alator called for one of his assistance. "Amelia, would you show this man to one of the medical rooms, he hasn't had rests in days."

"Of course, sir," the red headed said. Alator turned back to Merlin.

"After you've had time to rest, I'll send, maybe even bring, some food to you and we can talk about the finer details of your exploit then." Alator gave Merlin an encouraging smile and then turned to the gathering crowd of employees trying to deliver messages and reports.

Without another word, Merlin followed red head through God knows how many doors and hallways. Merlin had sort of lost his alertness since leaving Alator. The talk about rest had reminded Merlin's body how tired he was and he knew that he was in a safe place. Eventually, though he never could recall the trip afterwards, Merlin found his way to somewhere comfortable to sleep.

Upon waking, Merlin jumped up from the medical bed far more alert than he had been before falling into it. The alertness had been caused by the dream he had just been having; Morgana had reoccurred in the night several times. Wiping at his face, Merlin realized just how sweaty he was; in fact, it had been days since he'd last washed. Looking around Merlin spotted a side door that led into the loo, which conveniently had a shower. Merlin didn't wait for anyone to come by with consent; he hopped in to wash himself.

After a shower that had lasted far longer than one would normally take because Merlin enjoyed the feeling of the hot water on his grimy body, he jumped out and found some pajama like clothes in a cupboard. Merlin left the bathroom with his dirty clothes in one hand and the top he had yet to put on in the other, and found Alator waiting with a cart of food.

"Ah, I see you've washed up. Good, I was going to suggest that after you ate," Alator said, rolling the cart out of Merlin's way so he could take a seat on the used bed.

"Thanks for the compliment," Merlin said sarcastically, grabbing a slice of bread from the cart as he walked by. Alator smiled as Merlin flopped back onto the bed and devoured the bread.

"Did you get enough sleep?"

"I don't know. How long was I out for? "Merlin asked through a mouthful of bread.

"Nearly fourteen hours."

"Really? That long?"

"Well, you were up for two days as I have concluded from what you've told me so far."

"Thanks by the way," Merlin said as he glanced at Alator. "I hadn't intended to impose too long. I just planned to get their location and few tools."

"No need of thanks," the bald druid reassured him. "You'll always find help here."

Merlin sighed. "So what did you bring to eat?"

Merlin enjoyed his time with Alator as he ate a good portion of the roast beef the druid had brought him. Much of what they talked about made Merlin reminisce about the good old days, the recent and the old. Merlin eventually got around telling Alator about his and Morgana's time in the states.

First, they had visited New York, a place much like what London was now. Then they traveled west, stopping every now and then at a place longer than others. Merlin had liked it in the Rockies; the mountain sides were quiet and tranquil, something that Merlin had truly enjoyed. However, there had been more to explore. The States had changed a lot since they'd last been there during the 20's.

"Did you manage to track them done?" Merlin finally ventured to ask. The smile on Alator's face dropped the instant he asked the question. The druid hesitated for a moment.

"Yes, a few of my men in Parliament managed to pinpoint their whereabouts and their possible destination." Merlin smirked. Of course he had his own men within the government.

"Wherever their currently located is their only destination," Merlin told Alator as he threw on the pajama top. "Like I said, there waiting for me to come after her. What about weapons?"

Alator pulled a few things of the bottom of the cart and handed him a long silver colored rod. Merlin took it and looked at it for a moment before raising an eyebrow at the other man. Alator cleared his throat.

"There's a small switch on the bottom." Merlin used his opposite hand to feel the pommel of the rod. Finding an abnormality at the very tip of the pommel, Merlin pressed it. The rod began to whirr and within a moment the object went from being a rather dull rod to a fully functional hatchet.

"Nice," Merlin muttered underneath his breath. It had been a while since he used an axe, he would need to practice before he did anything. Alator reached his hand underneath the cart again a pulled out a handgun and held it out for Merlin. However, Merlin declined.

"I abhor the use of a gun. The are such a barbaric weapons."

"People now-a-days would say that using a hatchet as a weapon is barbaric," Alator piped.

"Yes, but they're not as old as I am," Merlin returned in jest. "Anything else that _I _would find helpful?"

"One last thing," Alator said as he reached under the cart a third time. This time, instead of pulling out some sort of trinket, Alator held a few folders, which handed to Merlin.

"What are these?" Merlin asked well he looked from Alator to them.

"I said that I'll I could do was offer you was the location of your targets and some items," Alator explained.

"These are mercenaries!" Merlin said incredulously as he flipped through the files.

"But I worry too much for you to allow you to run off on your own," Alator finished.

"Where did you get these?"

"Same people who located the Fomorians."

"Nice," Merlin replied with a grin, still flipping through the files. "Maybe I should ask you for favors more—" Merlin stopped dead in the middle of his sentence.

Alator noticed, "What? What is it Merlin?"

The voice of the druid caused Merlin to snap out of his stupor.

"It's nothing," Merlin said as he hastily shut the files and stood up. However, Merlin knew he had said it too abruptly and needed some way out of explaining the moment of silence. He found the perfect one upon looking around the room.

"Uh, hey, can you get this washed?" Merlin asked as he picked up his dirty clothes and handed them to the druid. "I want them clean before I go."

"Yeah, sure," Alator said looking strangely at Merlin. He turned away to leave the room and in that moment Merlin glanced at the folders. "Myrddin?"

"Yes, Alator?" Merlin responded ad looked back at the bald and shorter man.

"Is everything fine?"

"Yeah, of course," Merlin said with a wide grin as he scratched the back of his neck. Alator lingered for a moment, still eyeing Merlin, but then he turned and left.

Merlin's hand dropped away from his neck and his gaze turned back to the folders. Slowly he walked back to the bed, where he had thrown them in his hast to get rid of Alator, and picked the files back up. Ever so slowly he flipped back to the last file he had looked at. As he turned to it, he looked into a face of a man he longed since thought, or rather knew, was dead.

It was Gwaine.

Or rather, as the file read, Gwaine Boyde.

_A thirty-four year old mercenary born in South Wales, he did a few jobs for the government once or twice and did a tour in a few of the more recent wars, which include… _

Merlin read through the file a few times. It had everything, his birth date, the exact time of birth, his parent's names, even his blood type. He hardly cared about that, of course, he cared more about the man, and what his sudden appearance meant. Quickly, Merlin searched the location at which he currently resided. It was fairly close, and coincidently in the same town Merlin was born in fifteen hundred years before hand.

After Merlin received his clothes back from being washed, he told Alator he would return for his equipment, but he needed to make a trip first. Alator didn't say it, but Merlin suspected he knew that Merlin was going out to look for one of the mercenaries in the files. So, after entering the mid-day sun, he found a bus stop that was on the route he needed to go. Merlin's destination was Maridunum, or more presently known as Carmarthen.

The last time that Merlin had been in his birth town had been right before he and Morgana had taken off to the States near two years before. Merlin had just wanted to visit; after all, it had become centered on the warlock himself. The town had been renamed for his sake; not that he had to do anything with that.

Several bus stops and a ferry ride away, Merlin found himself at his destination, arriving just over four hours after his departure from D.R.U.I.D. Looking around Merlin spotted several changes, they had a new stop sign barely four feet from where he stood and the sidewalk had been redone. They were small details, but for having lived as long as Merlin had, one grew to know everything like the back of their hand, literally. With the address mentally seared in his brain, Merlin found the location fairly fast.

Gwaine's home wasn't actually in the town, not precisely at any rate. Merlin found it off to the side of a road leading out of town. As he approached, he could see the benefits being a hired gun. The house, though it appeared un-kept, was rather large and Merlin even spotted a sport's car tailfin peeking out from an open garage door, were heavy rock music was blaring out from. Merlin made his way to the open garage.

Looking in, he saw someone wedged under the car and the paved floor. Merlin cleared his throat.

"Hello?" he called loudly. However, he doubted that he had been heard over the booming music. So Merlin did the one thing that would make his presence known. He turned off the music, provided, he would have done it with magic, but the boom box was too far away from him to be in the right spot when he did have the person's attention.

As soon as the music had stopped, the person pulled himself out from under the convertible. He looked right at Merlin.

"What did you do that for?" he asked. Merlin, however, was to dazed to answer back.

There before him was the man he had known as Gwaine, a knight of Camelot. He still had lengthy brown hair and the beard, but his clothes had drastically changed. He wore a pair of jeans that had tears in several places and he wore a long-sleeved shirt, the sleeves had been pushed up to his elbows.

"Who are you?" Gwaine asked as he stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans. Merlin, still dazed, did not answer. Gwaine waved his hand in front of Merlin's face. "Hello?"

Merlin quickly pulled himself together, "Uh, your name is Gwaine Boyde, right?"

"Depends on what you want him for?"

"I have a job for him."

Gwaine gazed at him, his eyes roaming up and down as though he were trying to gauge the worth of a job offered by someone like Merlin.

"Come inside," Gwaine finally said and walked away without another word. Following Gwaine, Merlin entered the house. The inside looked a lot better than the outside. The walls and floors were well kept and each room properly furnished in some way.

As the entered what appeared to be the living room, Gwaine pointed to a chair and muttered, "Sit." Merlin could do nothing but oblige. Gwaine disappeared behind a door, but quickly returned with a bottle of some sort of whiskey in his hand. Sitting down, he took a swig and held out the bottle for Merlin, who politely declined.

"I'm not one much for alcohol," he explained.

"I can't quite fathom what it is to be you than," the other man said as he sat down. Both pairs of eyes locked before Gwaine leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. "So, what's this job?"

Merlin also leaned forward, "I need you to get me into a certain location?"

"And this location is?"

"I'd rather not say until I know whether or not you'll do the job."

"Fair enough." There was a slight pause. "Why do you need to get into this place?"

"A group of people took something from me," Merlin told him quietly. "Someone special to me."

Gwaine raised an eyebrow, "A wife?"

Merlin hesitated, "Something like that."

"What do you mean?"

"We never saw any reason to have a ceremony; we've been with each other for so long that it didn't really seem to matter." That was partially the truth. There had been talk of marriage, but both Merlin and Morgana had wanted Arthur to be at the ceremony. They had both agreed to wait until Arthur had returned, no matter how long that would take. However, with Gwaine's appearance, it seemed to be sooner than later.

"Who took her?" Gwaine asked as he took another swig from his whiskey bottle.

"Ever hear of the terrorist group the Fomorians?"

"Heard of them, never dealt with them. They've given the government a run for their money. Why would they want your girl?"

"She's bait," Merlin leaned back into his seat.

"So they're after you?"

Merlin nodded, "I've caused them trouble a few times."

"You some sort of freelancer?"

Merlin smirked. He'd never considered himself a freelancer before, but as he looked at it, he could see it somehow. "In a way. Normally, I don't get involved, but on occasion I'll step into a conflict."

"Then why do you need me?" The whiskey bottle tipped back again.

"Like I said, I'm not one to get involved normally. They last time I had to deal with anything was quite some time ago. You're a professional; I could do with a good gun."

"So, how much are you willing to pay?"

"Name your price."

"500k."

"I'll pay you triple." Gwaine froze in mid-swallow. Leaning back, he observed Merlin as though try to see past a jest. However, Merlin was dead serious. Plus, he had the money to spend. You didn't live for fifteen hundred years without acquiring quite a bit of dough.

"You're serious?"

"Of course."

"Is she really worth going after?"

"She's worthy every moment of my life." There was a time when neither spoke. Merlin politely waited as he saw Gwaine trying to decide. The money was good, but considering the amount and the people they were going up against it was clear it would be dangerous.

"Well, all I know is that for the amount of money you're paying, I'll jump in front of bullet for you," Gwaine told Merlin as he pushed himself up from his chair. "Providing that the bullet wouldn't kill me."

Merlin grinned, "So you'll do it?"

"When do we leave?"

"Immediately, but there is two place I need to stop off at before we do anything," Merlin told Gwaine, as he jumped out of his own seat. Gwaine turned back to him.

"By the way, what's your name?"

"My name's Merlin Ambrose."

"Well, Merlin, whatever way you got here before, you'll have to arrange for it pick, we'll be taking my car. I can transport my equipment around a lot easier if I don't have the noisy police force searching through my stuff."

"That's okay, I took a bus to get here," Merlin said.

And so, Gwaine left Merlin to get his stuff packed together. Merlin couldn't help but smile about his old friend, so much like he'd been back during his days in Camelot. Too bad he couldn't remember a thing about those days. And that brought on a whole new train of thought to Merlin conscience.

If Gwaine had been reincarnated, who else had returned? If he was back, was Arthur? Just the thought of Arthur being back made Merlin tremble in anticipation. However, if people like Gwaine were being reincarnated, who else could? Could Mordred and Morguase? _That _thought made his blood run cold.

"Hey, Merlin, stopping standing around as though you've already been shot by that bullet we were talking about," Gwaine said as he passed by carrying several duffel bags.

"I thought you were going to jump in front of it for me?" Merlin jested, Gwaine pulling him out of the dark pool which was his mind.

"It'll never happen if we don't get out of here." Merlin grinned. He followed Gwaine to the door, holding it open so the latter could squeeze through it.

"Where are we going first?" Gwaine asked, throwing the duffel bags into the back of his vehicle.

Merlin jumped into the front passenger seat. "Dartmoor National Park."

"What?" Gwaine asked looking at merlin as though he thought he had heard him wrong.

"There are some things there that I need to retrieve," Merlin offered as the only explanation. Gwaine puffed out a breath, and jumped into the driver seat. He started the engine and put the car into reverse.

"Hopefully the car doesn't fall to pieces on me," Gwaine said in response to a piercing creak that came from the car.

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked sharply.

"Well, I was in the middle of putting a few things back together when you interrupted me." Merlin suddenly felt afraid. "Don't worry though, it should hold up."

Several awkward hours later, Gwaine pulled the convertible off to the side of the road near a hilly, wooded area within Dartmoor National Park. Though, he had no idea way he was doing it because as far as he was concerned there was nothing there to be seen.

Merlin on the other hand, knew of something that Gwaine did not. He was here to get a few things from his cave. The most important thing being the ring his father had given him when they had first met, though Merlin had known him as Dubricius then. The other items were slightly less important than the ring, but he needed them none the less.

"So what are we here for?" Gwaine asked mildly looking around. Merlin, too preoccupied in trying to remember the location of the cave, didn't answer and walked in the direction he suspected the cave to be.

They spent a half hour stumbling through trees and over hills as Merlin searched for the place he called home every so often. The warlock couldn't be more surprised at how fast the landscape had changed in the years he had been away. Though, he had seen other things change fast, like technology. Finally he found the hill which hid his home.

The stream that had once lead into the mouth of it had long since dried up and the stones that had littered the bottom of the flowing water had been replaced by dirt sporting lush grass. At the end of the cave's tunnel, the oak tree that had once held Balinor's soul had grown ever so old, yet it still lived, despite the lack of sunshine. Everything within the cave, remand as he left it. Gwaine stared around in wonder.

"This is where you live?" he asked a bit skeptically.

"Occasionally, when I'm not traveling. Mind you, I travel a lot," Merlin told him. Merlin strode over a cluttered desk and started sifting through it.

"Don't people notice? Aren't you afraid of anything being stolen?"

"People tend to stay away. They gave me the nickname the "Crazy Bard."

"Why?"

"It's a play on my name. You know, Merlin, the wizard was said to based off of a crazy old bard by the name of Myrddin during the sixth century."

"Ah."

"Let's just say I left strict warnings, I people didn't take them for granted. Ah ha, found it."

"What?" Gwaine approached to see what Merlin had found. It was a small band of gold. "We came all the way out here for this ring?"

"It's not just any ring," Merlin defended the item as he slipped it onto his ring

"Oh, and what does it do?"

"That's for me to know," Merlin told the former knight of Camelot. Gwaine sighed skeptically.

"Anything else that you need?"

"Just a few more things," Merlin told him as he headed to the back. There, on a coat hanger, he found one of the other things he needed.

A cloak that Arthur had given him back in the old days. Merlin had nicknamed it Arthur's Mantle due to the fact that Arthur had given it to him not knowing the truth about it. The person to wear the cloak would turn invisible. Lifting it off the hook, Merlin looked at it. It would seem pretty strange if he walked around with it, but that was an easy fix.

"Áwendednes séo afgod," Merlin whispered under his breath and his eyes blazed gold. The cloak twisted and changed size, elongating and stretching out. After a moment, it had changed from a traveling cloak, to an exact replica of his duster. However, he couldn't just wear it or he would turn invisible, so he turned it inside out.

"Gelíobisen séo afgod." The inside of the coat changed so it looked the same as the outside and Merlin took his coat off and replaced it with the now replicated one. Returning from the back of the cave, Merlin through the real duster at Gwaine, who was looking at a few glass jars on a shelf. Gwaine caught it.

"We also came here for a coat?"

"This coat," Merlin smoother his hand over the replicated duster, "is different."

"Just like your ring?"

"Just like my ring." Gwaine tossed the other jacket over his shoulder.

"Anything else?"

"One last thing." Merlin grabbed a cane that was leaning on the wall near a bed. In the handle a blue jewel was encrusted into the oaken wood. His staff.

"Do you even need that?"

"I can't look classy?" Merlin asked.

"It makes you look like a bum, that and your coat."

"I nearly live like one anyway," Merlin couldn't help but say with grin. "Okay, we can go now."

Gwaine rolled his eyes as he turned away and moved to the exit. Before Merlin followed suite, he looked around the cave once more. Then he turned away, with his cane over his shoulder, and left the chamber.

Faster than before, Merlin and Gwaine managed to get back to the car. Another four hours on the roads and Merlin found himself back in London. The time was nearly midnight and he couldn't wait to get back to the D.R.U.I.D. building. He needed to rest again; he hadn't fully recovered from his two day sleeping fast. Plus Gwaine was muttering under his breath about the tactical worth of places they passed by, and a much as it was reassuring to know that he had gotten a professional, it wasn't helping Merlin's anxiety.

Within the next day, they would be facing a group of terroristic magic wielders well all Merlin had was a hired gun, a ring that would lead him to the thing he was looking for, a coat that would turn him invisible, and a hatchet. He really couldn't do much with the staff against the Fomorians, but he had brought it a long for sentimental reasons.

"Hey, were here?" Merlin jerked awake, having fallen half asleep during the ride. He looked up and saw they were indeed park right outside the D.R.U.I.D. Jumping out of the convertible, Merlin led the way into the building. They passed by the druid sitting at the front desk without as much as a glance. Merlin weaved in and out of corridors, trying his best to steer Gwaine away from the rooms experimenting with magic. As much as he wished to mess with Gwaine's head in order for his memories of Camelot to come back, _if _they came back, Merlin didn't want to test it.

"Merlin, it's good to see your back," Alator said as Merlin approached him. Merlin had deposited Gwaine at the medical room he had been sleeping in, he didn't want to risk a run in with magic. "So did you get what you were after?"

"Yes, and right now he is currently waiting in a medical room. I dare not leave him for long in fear of him stumbling into some sort of magic."

"What do you need?"

"You to talk to him," Merlin, and explained further at Alator's questioned look. "About the current situation. Not all of it of course, if you know what I mean. Just tell him our destination and the layout of the area and such. I need to practice my old skills with a hatchet; it's been a long while."

"Of course," Alator nodded. "But Merlin?"

"Yes?"

"Who is he?"

"Just like his file says; a hired gun."

Finding an experimental lab room with several testing dummies, Merlin began his training. The last time he use done had been sometime in the early eighteen hundreds when he was a fur trader in the U.S. There hadn't been much call for it afterwards except for chopping would. Now he needed the skill once more.

Through of his coat, Merlin pulled out the metal rod and hit the switch. Just like before, whirring was heard and then an axe head unfolded. Merlin swung the weapon around, testing the weight. He wacked at a dummy a couples times just to get the feel of it. Then he practiced his throwing, which he had to admit, was a bit rusty. He spent a good deal of time polishing up his hatchet work.

Not too long after, still being rather tired, Merlin left for the medical room he had become acquainted to. As he entered, he greeted Gwaine, or attempted to, but the mercenary was already asleep with a whiskey flask in hand in the bed that had been left untouched by Merlin. Sighing, Merlin hit the shower and when he was finished, found his own bed.

"So, after we get off the ferry at Douglas, we'll scatter for a few hours until one o'clock in the morning at, which point will do are thing, right?" Gwaine asked nearly fourteen hours later. It was roughly four o'clock in the afternoon and they were waiting for the ferry to depart from Liverpool. Their destination: the Isle of Man. They would arrive at the island shortly after ten; though, it could have been worse. Alator had thought a head and had some of his men in the Parliament get Gwaine's "equipment" over so they weren't stopped by law enforcements.

"That is correct," Merlin said, stretching his neck as far as possible to see if the ferry would start moving soon.

"And their defiantly holding her somewhere on the pier?"

"That's what Alator's men said. Plus, it only makes since, it's a good location. It could provide as a good getaway if they needed to flee." _And they draw power from the water,_ Merlin thought to himself, but that wasn't anything Gwaine needed to know. "I thought you're supposed to be the professional mercenary here?"

"Shut up." The comment only made Merlin grin. Both sighed as they felt the initial jerk of the ferry as it started its sea journey.

"Let's go over the plan again just so we know were familiar," Merlin told Gwaine, who took a swig from his hip flask.

"When we arrive all automatically head for the Isle of Man Welcome Centre and lay low in their little dome thing. They you'll…"

"I'll walk around for a bit. I'll hide in one of the stalls or something until it closes down. Then I'll leave my hidey-hole and attract the Fomorians to my location, somewhere on the pier I was thinking. Then…"

"I'll pick off every last bugger that gets in my crosshairs," Gwaine finished.

Unfortunately, upon arriving at the pier, they found it to be flocked with law enforcement. Apparently, there had been a group caught smuggling drugs in.

"What will we do now?" Gwaine asked in hush tones as they both walked out of the swarmed building. Merlin sighed in frustration. It was late and Merlin didn't dare wait any longer on their rescue attempt. Merlin walked a short ways from Gwaine trying to find an alternate spot. Luckily enough, he spotted one with a good view of the pier. Across the way there were large gas silo type tanks.

"Gwaine?" Merlin called. As the he approached, Merlin pointed at the silos. He nodded.

"Okay."

"I'll wait with you, maybe you'll spot something we over looked before we came. Then when we've decided that the area is clear, I'll move in and you'll shoot anything none friendly."

"Are you sure you'd not rather be closer to the pier before we start?"

"Nay, not with all this law enforcement around," Merlin said , still looking out over the water at the silos.

Three hours later, Merlin and Gwaine sat on top the silos with a perfect angel of the pier, with the occasional docked boat that got in the way. Gwaine had set up his sniper rifle and had several other guns laid out just in case. Merlin was fiddling with his hatchet, which was in rod mode, while he waited.

He shook with anxiety. Being so near to Morgana, but unable to touch her was a whole new torture to him. He knew she was there to, he had used the ring

"Okay, so it's nearing one-thirty," Gwaine noted. Merlin crouched down next to him.

"See anything? Movement of any kind?"

"Nothing. No law enforcement, no Fomorians, no nothing," Gwaine said slowly, peeking through his scope.

"I'm going in then," Merlin said as he stood up and made way for the scaffolding stairs.

"Wait, wait!" Gwaine hissed.

"What?" Merlin hissed back as he moved quickly back to where the mercenary was sprawled out.

"It's P.E.N.!"

"What?" Merlin asked in confusion. He glanced over at the pier to see if he could spot what Gwaine saw. However, his eyes were hardly able to see anything in the current lighting.

"P.E.N., Private Elimination Nexus. A privately run mercenary system. Parliament has hired them a few times; it was only created like three years ago or something." Gwaine turned his head to look at Merlin. "Sure you don't want them to take care of this for you. I mean, I'll go along with our plan since I'm getting paid as it is, but this situation could turn on us real fast."

Merlin stopped to think for a moment.

"No, I'll go in, but don't fire at anything unless I need help. The fewer things you shoot, the less attention you'll attract." Merlin left Gwaine where he lay. The mercenary scoffed and reached for his flask.

Merlin dropped to the ground and stumbled slightly. He sprinted to the nearest semi and hid behind it. He took a quick peek at the pier over the semi's hood and thought he glimpsed something move on the deck of a docked yacht. Ducking back down, Merlin worked off his leather duster, or the morphed cloak, and turned it right side out. Slipping it back on and pulling up his hood, Merlin suddenly disappeared from existence, or so it would seem.

Now that he was completely invisible, Merlin ran out from behind the semi and made way for the Welcome Centre. No one seemed to be around due to the late hour, but Merlin knew better. Coming closer to the building, Merlin's pace slowed down until he was walking right up to it. He threw open the door and entered cautiously

Upon entering, Merlin's head felt like it would explode. He stumbled and fell well he grabbed his head. Merlin knew what it was. The Fomorians weren't stupid, they knew merlin had magic and would use magic. They set up a spell that would alert them of anyone who used magic in the vicinity. Unfortunately, that counted Arthur's Mantle. Merlin did his best to shrug off the duster without using his hands. Once he'd gotten it off, the pressure in his cranium disappeared.

Merlin didn't waste any time with recovering himself, now the Fomorians knew he was there and they would be on his tail soon. He needed to find a relatively safe place to hide. As soon as he had the duster turned inside out once more and on his back, Merlin moved quickly, but quietly down the dark hallway. Turning a corner, he nearly ran into a large figure.

That large figure happened to be a man with beefy arms and a muscular body. The only thing that identified him as a Fomorian was his missing leg. The Fomorian took one look at Merlin and swung at him violently with one of his arms. In one moment, Merlin ducked, took a step forward, pulled out the hatchet rod, hit the switch, and brought the unfolding axe-blade down on the surprised Fomorians neck. Blood sprayed over everything: the floor, the wall, the window, and Merlin. Pulling the hatchet's head out of the dead man's neck, Merlin looked down at the corpse for a moment. However, before anything thoughts came to mind, Merlin found a gun barrel stuck in the back of his head.

Merlin froze, cursing his stupidity in his head.

"Turn around," the owner of the gun, obviously, told Merlin. Having no other choice, Merlin obliged.

This was when he got a glimpse of his capturer. He wore a black squad suit with P.E.N. stamped on the front of it, his face hidden by some sort of armored mask, which matched the body armor that he wore. The assault rifle that he now held to Merlin's forehead was dead still; obviously this person was not scared of killing.

"What's your name?" the same muffled voice came from behind the mask.

"Merlin Ambrose."

"Are you a member of the terrorist group known as the Fomorians?"

"No."

"What is your purpose here?"

Merlin thought for the right wording.

"They kidnapped somebody I know, I came here to get her back." Merlin decided on the truth.

"Just you?"

Merlin didn't answer. The figure reached for a radio on his shoulder.

"Squad members keep your eyes peeled for any—" The person never got time to finish, for Merlin had disarmed them of their side arm. Now Merlin held the pistol's barrel to the person's chest. Even at close range it would pierce the body armor. Merlin hear other voices jumping onto the radio, likely because they were wondering why he had stopped abruptly.

"Sir, put the gun down. Now," they spoke slowly and softly as though Merlin were a child.

"Only if you do," Merlin answered.

"Mr. Ambrose, I don't want to hurt you, but I will shoot if you do something rash."

"Oh, I'd like to see you try." Wait? Hadn't he had a similar encounter like this before?

"Sir, I warn you I've been—" Merlin interrupted him again, this time verbally.

"Trained to kill," Merlin finished. Merlin added in an undertone: "Since birth."

"What?"

Merlin shook his head, a small grin playing on his face.

"Nothing, it doesn't matter now…" Merlin looked at the figure from the corner of his eyes. "…Arthur Pendragon."

The assault rifle dropped slightly. A black gloved hand drew away from the assault rifle and grasped the lip of the armored mask. When the hand pulled, the mask drew away and a ness of blond locks shone brightly in the dark. A pair of slightly dull, blue eyes looked into Merlin's bright, glowing pair.

"How do you know my name?"

Merlin stood up straighter and lowered the stolen firearm. "Call it destiny."

Merlin offered the pistol back; Arthur took it ever so slowly. Neither man took their eyes off the other.

"Are you really here to save somebody?"

"Yes," Merlin answered. "And since you brought it up, I think I'd better finish my job."

"Wait! I can't let you do that." Arthur stepped into Merlin's way.

"Trust me Arthur; the one thing I am is not helpless. I know how to deal with these guys, I've done it before." Just then a voice came up over Arthur's radio.

"_Sir, we've cornered one of the terrorist…but he's got a…hostage. Waiting for orders_."

"Where are they?" Merlin asked sharply.

"I'm not going to tell you," Arthur exclaimed. Merlin grabbed Arthur's arm.

"Arthur, this is important to me," Merlin looked into Arthur's eyes deeply. "If I don't do this, that woman out there will die and I will die with her. Please."

Arthur looked at him, his eyes searching any lies in Merlin's words. Merlin couldn't help but see the Arthur from the old days in him.

Arthur reached for the radio again, "Where is your location?"

"_About forty meters from the end of the pier sir…what are our orders….should we shoot?_"

Merlin shook his head franticly.

"Negative, wait for me."

"_Copy_," came the voice on the other side.

"Can you reassure me that I'm doing the right thing, Mr. Ambrose," Arthur asked.

Merlin kicked the body on the floor, "If this is any good, then you should be reassured."

Merlin turned away and strode all the way to the exit without another word to the Once and Future King. It wasn't as though he wasn't glad to see him, in fact, he was overjoyed. Yet, the one thing in the world that had kept Merlin from losing his mind during his fifteen hundred wait was in mortal peril and Merlin wouldn't allow anything, _anything_, to get in his way. Not even his destiny.

Walking across the pier, Merlin saw the whole scene.

About twenty meters from him were five or six figures dressed the same as Arthur. They were spread out across width of the pier. About forty meters from them several figures of varying sizes stood with their backs to the end of the pier. They all held their own type of firearms, even the one in the middle, who had a gun pointed at the raven haired beauty he held tightly.

When Morgana saw Merlin she jerked sharply, trying to free herself from her capturers grasp. She didn't appear to have been harmed in any way since he'd last seen her, except that the jean jacket she had been wearing was no were to be seen and her hair cascaded around her face contrasted to when she had had it up in a bun. In a single moment, their eyes met and unspoken words past between them.

Merlin walked toward the P.E.N. group, only momentarily slowing down as a tall figure stepped in his way.

"Move Percival," Merlin, who recognized the person easily by their size, said as he brushed by.

As he moved closer he recognized the Fomorian on the center-right. He had a large gut, but not so much that hindered his movements. Both of his eyes had patches over the, however, this Fomorian needed neither of his eyes to see. Merlin stopped when he was nearly fifteen meters away.

"It's been a long time Myrddin," the Fomorian with the eye patches spoke loudly.

"It has hasn't, when was the last time we met? Hindenburg? Quite a show you put on then, Balor."

"Ah, yes. Thought I had you that time."

"My mind was on the same track that day," Merlin frowned. "Now, I would like you to release Morgana, Balor."

"So, it's straight to business than?" Balor asked, pulling at the collar of his grey suit.

"You've been waiting for me haven't you?"

"Aye, I guess I have. But I didn't expect you to have back up."

"They," Merlin gestured behind himself, "came on their own mission. Coincidently, it happened to be my mission as well."

"Yes, well this is unfortunate you see."

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked sharply. No answer. "Balor?! What do you mean?!

"The thing is that I've just received an urgent message from my second in command, Bran. It seems that some of my men were attacked in Ireland, and as much as I love power, what use is it if you don't have men to use it on? So you see, I'll have to turn away from power just this once. Of course, you're by all means invited to follow; I won't turn down power a second time." With that, Balor signaled to his men and they began to back up towards a small motor boat just at the end of the pier. Merlin just stood and watched as he could nothing else well they held a gun to Morgana's head. "I'll keep the lovely Lady as insurance."

"Balor! We could end this right here, right now!" Merlin called after the Fomorian leader hopelessly.

As the group of corrupted druids clambered into the boat, Merlin managed to lock eyes with Morgana again. They were taking her again, just like they had days before. Merlin felt a rage building within a rage, which would only be quenched when he had killed every single Fomorian in the boat.

Merlin dashed without warning and he heard cries from the P.E.N. squad. Those forty meters seemed longer than when he had walked out onto the pier. Through the noise of the blood rushing to his head, Merlin heard the engine of the boats motor ignite. He was only ten meters away when they started moving away from the pier. As he reached the piers edge, he pushed off with all the momentum he could gain and flew the air.

Only to miss the boat by several feet.

He landed into the water with a great splash. Once he had managed to resurface, Merlin watched as the boat retreated from his view.

"MORGANA!" He screamed as loud as he could. No answer came to him and none would.

Merlin cursed himself, if he had only used magic to propel himself just a bit further. However, he had been in the practice so long of not using his powers, he hadn't used his magic instinctively as he might have years ago, when Camelot was in its glory.

He swore, by the Old religion he would not stop for anything until Morgana was rescued. Destiny be damned!

**Author's Note: So that's the end of that. I hope you liked it. I know for a fact that the beginning was far better written than what it became, but I stopped with details because I figured that it was only a template for the actual story anyways, though, I hoped it didn't lack too much detail in the end.**

**One thing I would like to say is that more magic will be present once I can start writing the story. There probably won't be as much in the beginning, but that's only because Merlin still hides his magical abilities. **

**If you didn't get from context, it is a Mergana fic seeing as my other one is a Mergana and will be tied into this one.**

**Arthur's Mantle is one of the Thirteen Treasures of Britian. If you haven't read my other fic you would know that I will incorporate all thirteen of them into that one, and they will likely make some kind of appearance into this one.**

**Merlin's axe skills. I actually plan to incorporate that later into ****_Historia Merlinus_**** (depending on when you read this). And the reason he fights with an axe is because an axe, as it says in Norma Lorre Goodrich's ****_Merlin, _****one of Merlin's symbols was an axe. I thought, besides magic, Merlin needed a skill unique to him. Plus I wanted Merlin a little more competent with weapons.**

**One last note. I talk about Merlin's cave, which is based off of Byrne Myrddin, or Merlin's Hill. However, I made a goof up with the geography only because I wasn't paying attention to it at the time I wrote the chapter it crops up in in Historia Merlinus. Byrne Myrddin is located near Carmarthen, which, if you know, is located in Wales. Unfortunately I made an error and talked about it being in Cornwall in Chapter 6, The Cave, of Historia Merlinus. Though, there is supposedly a cave on the coast of what once was known as Cornwall, which is said to be the real cave of Merlin. However, the key word there is "coast". I made it located inland. But it's only a fanfiction after all, so…**

**Anyways, hope you reached it this far and didn't quit on me halfway through my rant on Byrne Myrddin. Can't wait to get this story started, but who knows how long that will take seeing as I can take forever to update my stories.**

**If there are things your wondering about that I did not explain then PM me.**


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